History Through Her Eyes
by YoyoMomo
Summary: Cecile's life, to be blunt, wasn't the most interesting life to lead on Earth. Unfortunately. She wasn't special, just a normal girl leading a normal life. All that changes when she's thrown into the world of Hetalia! But, is the world of Hetalia as comedic as it looks as she travels through the nations' pasts? (Full summary inside)
1. Prologue Part i - The Mist

_Cecile's life, to be blunt, wasn't the most interesting life to lead on Earth. Unfortunately. She wasn't special, just a normal girl leading a normal life. All that changes when she's thrown into the world of Hetalia! But, is the world of Hetalia as comedic as it looks as she travels through the nations' pasts?  
__Loss, hatred and sorrow, but also happiness, hope and joy. This is a journey that not only goes through history, but delves deep into the characters of Hetalia, how these experiences will change Cecile and her life forever, and how they all act with what's to come. Follow along with Cecile as she experiences history through her eyes._

* * *

**Prologue; Part i – The Mist**

_Simplistic, safe. _These are the words that I could use to describe my life.

_Peaceful, quiet._ It's always been this way since I was born.

_Tranquil, still. _I already know the outline of my own future without fortune tellers, tarot cards, or some other mystical way.

_Fixed, cliché. _I know that my family expects me to get a good education to get a good job that pays well so that I can support them and possibly a future family with a husband and kids.

_Trivial, Mundane. _It's a good steady life, if I do say so myself.

_Common, bland. _I don't have to really worry or stress over anything.

_Unoriginal, vapid. _But it was all so...

_Stale, trite. _Very...

_**Boring**_

* * *

Cecile Dauze abruptly stopped her relaxed walking as the final word rang through her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, her life of a mere eighteen years has been boring thus far. There was no adventure she usually read in her books, no hilarity she watched in the movies, no romances she read in the mangas, and no drama she'd seen happen in the other teens about her age around her. Just...nothing.

However, she couldn't really complain about it as she felt herself more privileged than others. Her parents had good jobs and could provide for her and her siblings so they could live comfortably. She had good friends at school, some of which included her teachers, and she was going off to a good college once the summer ended.

Besides, she wasn't really the type to speak out to complain or voice her opinion as she was easily embarrassed and would go red in the face by speaking publicly. Also, the deep voice that she possessed sounded annoying whenever she listened to a recording of it, or just listening to it in general. She'd rather stay silent and simply observe.

With a quiet sigh escaping her lips, Cecile continued her slow pace on the sidewalk, her dark eyes, covered with glasses, were downcast on the fallen leaves that her brown, boot-clad feet eventually stepped over with a soft crunch. The summer breeze blew against her face, which somewhat annoyed her as her black bangs tickled her forehead just above her eyebrows. But the wind wasn't strong enough to really move and whip her long ponytail in an unsightly and even slightly painful manner. Her plain, royal blue cloak that reached below her calves was swaying with the wind and her movements. If she had to be honest with herself, Cecile was chubby since she didn't know when to stop eating her sweets or anything really, and so the fabric of the cloak clung to the back of her brown pants

Now, why did she have such bizarre clothes in the middle of the day in the middle of the street, people around her staring at her oddly as they viewed her in her awkward articles? Well, it was because she was coming back from some costume party that her friends invited her to. Now why was she leaving in the middle of the day? Because she saw no use being there since she didn't really stand out and didn't like parties in the first place, much like the little wallflower she always had been.

At first, she had used the excuse that she didn't have a costume to go. Her mother offered to buy her something from the store, but she had refused, saying that they could use the money for better things. Cecile was perfectly content with just spending the night in front of the computer while watching her favorite, or random, videos and reading her online stories or fanfics. However, all that changed when a mysterious package had arrived on her doorstep with the costume; cloak, boots and all.

Now with a costume, her mother had forced her to go to the party since the woman didn't want her daughter to be a social outcast. Cecile was rather skeptical of the costume, but her mother had said that the person who delivered it claimed it was her friend and even looked like a person from one of her photos. Besides, mother knows best, right? So Cecile put the costume on, rather pleased by the simplistic design and exact fit, and trudged her way to the party.

Well, here she was now. Walking home alone away from that very party, wasting a few hours she could have spent catching up on her stories and with her online friends. The thought caused Cecile to sigh to herself. She loved being online and she loved her friends online as well. So what if she would rather be in front of her computer rather than be outside walking around the mall with the friends that could physically be next to her at any time? She firmly believed that it didn't make her a person "without a life"; she just had a life different from those who say those words.

Cecile continued to walk down the street, but slowed to a stop as she noticed a green smoke pouring around her feet and onto the sidewalk. Looking up from the ground, she was shocked to see a swirling, glowing green mist right in front of her. It was somewhat oval-shaped and the size of an average human being, but it was so dense that she couldn't see past it.

Cecile looked around to see if there were any hidden cameras or anything, but was shocked to find that the people in the area weren't reacting to the mysterious mist at all. Some people even harmlessly passed through it without taking notice of it, those that bumped into her glared at her as if blaming her for standing in the middle of the walkway like an idiot! Cecile thought she heard some voices through the mist and leaned in closer to get a good listen, not caring if she looked weird in front of others.

* * *

(Approximately 5 minutes ago; Hetalia World Meeting)

"Don't you make fun of my magic, you git!" a distinctive and heavily British accented voice angrily shouted. Arthur Kirkland, human personification of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland, or simply the UK to many, was a man who could be very easily offended when someone made fun of him, his culture, or his history. Well, who wouldn't be offended if someone insulted them? So Arthur Kirkland did what was a common response for many. He yelled at the offender, or offenders, until his throat became raw. This was one of the reasons why he wasn't too fond of the world meetings; someone would find something to make fun of, usually his former ward or his "frenemy" were the ones with the insults, and he'd find himself with a sore throat for a week when the meeting was over.

"But dude, something always goes wrong whenever you try your 'magic'!" a loud, American voice heartily laughed out. Alfred F. Jones, the human personification of the United States of America as well as England's former ward that constantly made fun of him, was a loud and rather dense man who seemingly had a bottomless pit for a stomach. He always found it a fun activity to bash on his former guardian and would try to do so during the world meetings usually held in his country's capital. Besides, nothing ever gets done during the first half of the meeting until Germany takes charge, so why not have some fun until then?

"I agree with America. Your spells are simple street magician tricks," another voice taunted in French-accented English. Francis Bonnefoy, the human personification of the French Republic, was a man of romance and also the age-old enemy of England, whom he liked to call the "Black Sheep of Europe". It was rather inevitable that the two would become like cats and dogs with one another given the rather bumpy past they had together. In this modern age, they've become somewhat friends, but with their different personalities, they usually just end up fighting.

"My magic is not 'simple street magician tricks', you frog! It is completely authentic magic and it takes real skills and practice to perform!" the Englishman retorted, clenching his hands into fist as they shook with rage.

"Is this why you never have a date?" the American snickered.

"You know what, how about I prove it to you wankers since you don't believe me!" England snapped, suddenly pulling out his black leather book of magic from his pocket or something. Before anyone could stop him, he began a chant of a seemingly foreign language as green mist began to form and swirl in the center of the circular table all the countries sat around

* * *

(Cecile's world)

Cecile was rather intrigued by the voices she heard through the mist, or at least what she thought she heard. From what she can make out, there was a myriad of voices shouting, but it was all too muffled and muddled to make out exactly what the people were saying.

"Excuse me, ma'am?" a timid voice asked beside Cecile. When she turned, she saw that it was a young girl, about her age, with straw-like blonde hair up in a ponytail, clear hazel eyes, and in the typical waitress uniform of cafes in the area.

"Could you please move, you're blocking the way of our customers," the girl requested. Cecile leaned a bit to the side and upward to see that she was in fact standing in front of the double glass doors of a small café. After a quiet apology for the girl, Cecile moved around the swirling green mist and continued her way down the street. Little did our dark-haired protagonist know, the mysterious green mist began to grow and engulfing everything behind her, readily catching up to her slow pace.

* * *

(Hetalia World Meeting)

"What the hell is going on?!" a voice yelled out, the English heavy and thick with a German accent. Ludwig Beilschmidt, human personification of the Federal Republic of Germany, was a strong, serious man who never fails to abide by the rules and does not tolerate mistakes. As such, he usually demanded for order during the meetings when the countries got too out-of-hand, and kept the meetings "flowing" with an organized system. It was a simplistic and elementary system which consisted of raising one's hand and speaking their thoughts and ideas for no more than eight minutes.

Of course, even those got too out-of-hand at times when various countries would express their hate for another or just generally do something ridiculous and stupid. This wasn't exactly like one of those times but it was still chaos, as the green mist engulfed the room, the building began to shake as if they were going through a miniature earthquake. There were things falling over and crashing and breaking on the ground, papers flying everywhere, the lights flickering on and off until the bulbs shattered. Yep, it was utter chaos.

"I-I don't know!" England frantically shouted as he tore through the pages of his magic book, desperate to find a way to stop the madness of his green mist.

"Take cover!" the loud American shouted over the growing tremors and no one needed to be told twice as they all ducked under the table while protecting their heads.

* * *

(Cecile's World)

While she was waiting at the crosswalk light, Cecile impatiently tapped her foot, just wishing to already be back home and on her laptop. She was unaware of the growing mist behind her, so thick that one who could see it couldn't see past a few meters. Finally, the light across the large road shined white with the sign of a thick stick figure walking and Cecile went along with the crowd to move across, keeping her gaze down as she was lost in thought. It wasn't until she felt someone lightly bump into her shoulders did she stop for a moment and look up, her mouth opened and ready to apologize.

However, the moment she looked up, she froze as she saw that same mist in the same bright green tint surrounding her and blocking her vision of the world around her. Really, the only thing she could see were the white lines of the crosswalk and the road under and around her feet. Cecile tried to move, but froze at the sound of a loud honking blaring right beside her. Time seemed to slow down a considerable amount as the last thing she saw was a big pair of headlights rapidly coming at her frozen form. Even though Cecile thought it took several minutes for the glaring lights to reach her, in reality it was only a quick second before it was all over. Into darkness and silence she went.

* * *

(Hetalia World Meeting)

Finally, the tremors of the "earthquake" slowed to a stop as the green mist evaporated into the air.

"I-Is it all over?" a scared, Italian-accented voice shakily asked to break the few seconds of silence between the countries. Feliciano Vargas, human personification of the Italian Republic, was always remembered as a weak and scared man by many countries, but this time his fright was justified as many of the other countries felt the same way. At the moment, many traces of the cheerful, energetic, and pasta-loving man were gone as his panic and fright set in. However, with the tremors and mist now faded away, it was starting to come back, though rather slowly.

"I think so," England answered as he began to slowly rise from under the table. Some of the countries followed his lead, though hesitantly, and all stayed silent, ready to go back under the table in case of an aftershock.

However, they all froze as a foreign, deep groan resounded from the center of the room. Everyone looked over to see a small lump under a large blue cloak, tiny hands barely coming out of the long sleeves and the ends of dark hair spilling out from under the hood. Slowly, the lump shifted around before sitting up.

* * *

Cecile lightly groaned as she began to regain consciousness, stirring her body around a little to check to see if anything was broken. Strangely enough, everything was fine except that Cecile was rather tired. Maybe she was waking up in the hospital and on some medication? But the awkward position she felt she was in with her curled up on her side and belly on a carpeted floor with her arms surrounding her head quickly dismissed that theory.

Slowly, she sat up, but couldn't move any further as she found that the simple action nearly exhausted her, and looked around, quickly realizing that she didn't have her glasses since everything was blurry to her. Cecile knew that she was in an unfamiliar room surrounded by even more unfamiliar people, but they were just multicolored blobs in her line of vision.

They weren't moving, so Cecile took the moment to search for her glasses, her hands shakily patting the floor around her blindly. Cecile took her glasses, being careful not to dirty the lenses with her fingers, and carefully perched it on her nose. She blinked a few times to get used to the sudden magnification of her vision and looked around the room to study the people and room she was in.

Her face and dark gaze were rather unusual for someone in her position, being in an unknown room with unknown people, as she looked on with a rather quiet, spacey, almost childlike curiosity and intrigued gaze. Of course there was that side of fear and shock, but it was muted by her curiosity and intrigue. Looking forward, she opened her mouth to speak, her deep voice hoarse from the sudden waves of fatigue.

"Where am I?"

Cecile tried to stand, but the moment she had managed to get her knees off the floor, the crashed back down along with the rest of her body and the world around her went black again.

* * *

**A/N – And that ends the first part of the prologue! Leave a review to tell me what you think about this chapter and/or if you found anything wrong with it. If you have any questions, I'll answer them down here in the next chapter to the best of my abilities. Thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia, it all belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. I also do not own the cover image.  
****Claimer: I do own this story and original character(s)**

**Special thanks to;**

_**-PurpleMonarch **_**for being my beta reader and helping me with the synopsis of the story**

**-**_**MissSerendipity2014 **_**for supporting the making of this story and giving early feedback**

**-**_**Spliced-Kitten **_**for supporting the making of this story**** and giving early feedback**


	2. Prologue Part ii - Momma

**Prologue; Part ii – Momma**

* * *

_Recap: Our protagonist, Cecile Dauze, who was walking home from a costume party, has landed and collapsed in the middle of a Hetalia World Meeting through the magic of England's green mist. What will happen now?_

* * *

The sound of birds chirping, the warmth only on her face, and the bright light in front of her eyelids was a foreign, though cliché for some, way for Cecile to wake up to. And uncomfortable. She groaned as she opened her eyes, immediately shielding them with her hands as the harsh sunlight blinded her. She quickly sat up from the bed to get away from the rays and rubbed her eyes as if to help relax her eyes after that rude awakening call. Opening them again, she was shocked to find herself in another bedroom that she didn't realize.

It was a rather nice bedroom; teal wallpaper with white stripes, a large window to her side with a white sheet for curtains which did well in protecting one's privacy but not a good shield against the sun apparently, a mahogany dresser off to the corner, double mirror doors for a walk-in closet across the window, and a wooden white door to leave the room. The bed she slept on was larger than her own, most likely a queen-sized bed but she didn't really know, with soft white sheets and pillows, and four mahogany posts going up close to the ceiling.

As nice as it was, it was unknown. Cecile was silent, not knowing how to react. Should she scream in hopes of someone hearing her? Should she hide in case someone was to come up? Should she find a weapon? How should she feel about this? Scared that she was in an unknown environment? Lucky that she was in a nice place and not chained up in a dungeon or something? Cecile didn't know how to feel or react since she never experienced this before and only heard of it through stories, so she stayed silent and still, just staring off. The emotions running off inside of her were too much; she didn't know what she was supposed to feel, didn't know how she should react. She just didn't know.

It wasn't until she heard a multitude of voices either shouting or loudly talking below her that she was brought out of her thoughts. Could they be planning her demise or just found something to argue about? Or maybe they were the type of people to constantly argue. Cecile didn't want to deal with that, but she was curious, so she shoved the covers off. By then, she had realized that someone had taken her cloak and boots, but she still had her brown pants and puffy white shirt on her. Feeling rather lazy, Cecile just left the room without trying to find the cloak and boots, figuring that she could find them later.

As Cecile traveled further down the wooden stairs, the voices below were becoming clearer. Apparently everyone downstairs had distinguishable accents. Cecile could compare it all to a chaotic, uncooperative orchestra; a German in forte, a bouncing Italian, French in legato, Japanese in staccato, an a-tonal Chinese, a chromatic American, a pianissimo Canadian, an Englishman going through a crescendo, and a mezzo-forte Russian. Everyone was clashing as they were in dissonance, polyrhythmic as no one could stick to an established tempo, polyphonic as everyone wanted their melody to be heard above the others. And then, there was an immediate decrescendo as everyone, every instrument, went to a quiet stop. It took a while for Cecile to be brought out of her thoughts and to realize that they all stopped because she had entered the room. It was as if she were the conductor, whom everyone stopped for and looked expectantly at.

"H-Hello..." Cecile quietly greeted with a small wave by her waist. Well, this was a rather awkward and unnerving situation for her. However, everyone just burst into a jovial forte as they came around her, all with friendly and happy smiles. However, it did nothing to ease the girl's worries.

"Mamma!" that bouncy Italian voice cheerfully shouted, rising above the rest. Looking over, Cecile saw a tall young man with a head of short brown hair a strange curl sticking out on the left and brown eyes. The strange man jumped to her and wrapped his arms tightly around her shoulder and waist. Cecile would have fallen over form the sudden force and surprise if it weren't for the strong arms that kept her steady on the opposite side.

"Don't suddenly throw mutti off like that!" that loud German, who was a tall, muscular man with blond hair and blue eyes, angrily chided the Italian man as he pushed Cecile back up and steadied her. Immediately, the Italian let her go and began spew out some words that Cecile couldn't understand.

"U-uh..." Cecile began in confusion, but the Italian man kept sputtering out words. A second later, he stopped completely when the German put his large hand on his shoulder.

"Sorry about this, kaasan," the Japanese man spoke up. He was shorter than the other two, slimmer even, with short black hair and brown eyes.

"It's alright...?" Cecile quietly spoke, but was quickly interrupted when another voice came into the scene.

"Oui, oui. We apologize for having to pull you out of your travels so suddenly, maman. You can blame the Englishman for that," the Frenchman said, brushing away some strands of his shoulder-length blond hair to look at her with his blue eyes.

"Bloody frog," the Englishman muttered, but paid no more attention to the Frenchman as his messy head of blonde hair turning its green eyes to Cecile.

"But I do apologize for suddenly bringing you here, mummy. I'm sorry," the Englishman apologized.

"Maybe you're here for one of us, maman?" the quiet Canadian spoke up, his purple eyes peeking at hers through his shoulder-length blond hair.

"That would make better sense. Right, Mǔqīn?" the Chinese man asked. Cecile thought he was a woman with the long brown hair in a ponytail, brown eyes, and seemingly feminine build compared to the other men.

"I bet you're here for me, right momma?" the American voice came up along with a monster of a hug from the side. It was yet another tall man with blond hair and blue eyes.

"Nyet, mama is here for me," said the final voice, the Russian man. His tall figure, taller than the rest even, with beige hair and violet eyes came up to her opposite side and placed his large hands on her shoulders.

That's when the chaotic, uncooperative orchestra began once more with everyone arguing with one another. Various times had Cecile tried to intervene, but her soft voice would be easily overpowered by the rest. So instead, Cecile took a moment to actually think and process the words they were saying to her. Many spoke English, but said a word or two in a foreign language. However, she understood what those words meant; mother or momma or mommy. At that moment, when everything clicked together, there was only one thought that went through her mind; there is something seriously wrong with these people.

"Excuse me?" Cecile tried to get their attention, but everyone was too loud. She took in a large gulp of air, having it reach all the way down to her diaphragm so that she could yell with all her might.

"Everyone chill!" she shouted, loud enough for everyone to stop in an instant and some could have sworn the ground shook a little when she shouted.

"I don't know who any of you are or why you're referring to me as your 'mother', but I'm not, okay? I just want to go home," Cecile pleaded with them.

"But... Of course you're our mommy... You have the blue cloak and everything..."the Italian trailed off, his spirits beginning to extinguish.

"I just got that out of the mail for a costume party, nothing more and nothing less," Cecile desperately explained, wanting nothing more than to go back home. She took a deep breath to calm herself down and continue.

"Look, I am positive I've never seen any of you before and I sure as hell know that I never gave birth to anything or anyone, much less eight men from different cultural backgrounds," Cecile told them in a calmer voice. The realization began to dawn on all of them and the happy mood in the air turned into something depressing. Everyone was silent, until a loud, desperate laugh cracked through the air.

"Is this one of your jokes, momma? Cause it's rather mean," said the American with a sad laugh, as if he wanted this all to be a dream.

"Joke? This isn't a joke! I'm being serious!" Cecile screamed out in frustration. She had been scared this whole time and now it was becoming clearer to the rest.

"Momma, you can stop pretending now," Alfred slowly said, a crooked and scared smile and expression on his face.

"I. Am not. Pretending," Cecile slowly said with a no-nonsense voice. She glanced at everyone else and sighed when many of them were close to tears.

"Look, I just...I just... Just take me home, please," she quietly and shakily pleaded with them, looking at the ground as she spoke. Despite being the hostage, she even felt like crying because of the heartbroken atmosphere. Silence fell over the group, until the American suddenly turned around and bolted out of the room and Cecile was sure she saw a small tear fall from his eyes.

"W-Wait!" she tried to call him back, but he was already out of the room.

"That Alfred," the Englishman muttered under his breath. He then turned to Cecile and gestured for her to follow.

"Come now, poppet. I'll take you home," he said in a dejected voice. Cecile glanced at where Alfred ran off to before nodding and walking to where the Englishman stood. However, she only made it a few steps before turning around and chasing after Alfred. The men in the room couldn't help glance at each other with a small, reminiscent smile as she left the room, all thinking about how their mother would do the same.

Cecile felt terrible for making the American, Alfred, shed a tear. Now she was determined to find him and apologize for it. She kept running until she saw him outside, sitting on the edge of the porch and staring out at nature. As she slowly made her way to him, she tried going over what she could say to him.

"Hey, uh... Sorry for making you...cry..." Cecile trailed off, fidgeting with her hands and looking down at the ground. Smooth and very well prepared, obviously. She wasn't used to apologizing for doing something so terrible, so it was an awkward situation for her to be in. Sure, she'd say sorry about the small stuff like bumping into someone or dropping something, but she never made anyone cry. She was always a good girl, or at least she liked to believe she was, doing what she was told and only speaking when spoken to.

"No, it's alright," Alfred sniffled a little, rubbing his face with one sleeve. After cleaning up a bit, he turned towards her and smiled, but that just made Cecile feel worse as she saw the red color rimming his eyes.

"Come here and sit with me," he invited her over with a wave of his hand. Cecile hesitated a bit before slowly walking to where he was gesturing. She stood there, shifting from one foot to another, before Alfred gave a chuckle at her awkward state and patted the ground next to him. Cecile got the message and hesitantly lowered herself to sit beside him. The silence was unbearably awkward for Cecile as she kept fidgeting and shifting around, but Alfred seemed to be doing just fine, leaning back on his hands with his head tilted upwards slightly and his eyes closed.

"So you're not my momma," Alfred finally spoke up after minutes of silence, making Cecile jump a bit at the sudden intrusion. Alfred let out a low chuckle at her reaction.

"No..." Cecile trailed off, not knowing what else to say. She never was good with human interaction, or any living being for that matter.

"Sorry for making all that ruckus back there and questioning you. It's just that you look so much like my momma," Alfred apologized as he scratched and Cecile mumbled a small 'it's okay' before they went back to silence. The only thing different this time is that Alfred looked rather awkward himself now.

"You must be close with your mother," Cecile suddenly commented, though it was soft that Alfred barely heard it.

"Yeah, I am. You noticed?" Alfred turned his head to look at Cecile and saw that she was already looking at him. He sent a small smile her way, making Cecile blush slightly and look back down at the ground. It was obvious that she wasn't used to such attention.

"Yeah. Not a lot of grown men still refer to their mothers as 'momma' or 'mommy'. Many children stop doing that at eight, nine, ten. At that point in time, they call their mothers 'mom' or 'mother'. It's less affectionate than 'momma' or 'mommy' I'd say," Cecile explained. Alfred hummed, considering her words.

"I guess I still call her 'momma' cause... I don't know... I still feel like a kid next to her... God, I feel like an idiot for calling you that. I'm sorry," he apologized again, really beating himself over it now. Cecile was quiet, not really knowing what to say or do.

"So...does this mean you're not interested in politics?" Cecile lamely joked with a sheepish smile in Alfred's direction, but the man just raised a brow.

"Huh?" he dumbly asked, genuinely confused.

"Well, you said 'idiot' to describe yourself and the origins of that word is from Ancient Greece. It's a person or someone not interested in politics or something... yeah..." Cecile sheepishly explained, feeling rather lame for putting up such a joke. Much to her surprise, Alfred laughed.

"I get it now," he laughed. "That's a good one, reminds me of the jokes momma used to tell me. Or at least what she used to tell me. She's gotten better now," he said with a soft smile and a faraway look.

"That's good, that's good," Cecile nodded her head. Her tone was softer, gentler than before, a signal that Alfred took that she was starting to loosen up and was becoming less and less nervous. Once again, the two fell into silence. However, this time, both were comfortable just staring at the scenery before them.

"Hey, do you dance?" Alfred suddenly asked her, and Cecile glanced in his direction with a questioning look.

"Well... I used to take ballet as a child, but stopped since we couldn't keep up with the costs. I guess I could improvise with some hip-hop moves?" Cecile's voice was raised at the end as she slowed down, questioning and unsure of herself.

"Good enough!" Alfred beamed, quickly jumping up to his feet and brushing himself off from the dirt.

"Hey, wait a minute!" Cecile protested as Alfred grabbed her by her forearm and hoisted her up, pulling her against his chest. Alfred adjusted their position so that the hand he was holding was on his shoulder as he put one arm around her waist and held their free hands together; a standard ballroom dancing position. It was then that Cecile realized how small and fragile she was with this man, compared to his broad chest and shoulders to her chubby arms and flat chest.

"Do you know the basics of ballroom dancing?" Alfred asked. When Cecile looked up, she could see that he was smiling down at her, his eyes twinkling in happiness.

"Uh..." was Cecile's smart answer and Alfred laughed. However, Cecile noted that it wasn't the type of laughter one would use to make fun of another. It sounded like an old man's hearty laugh after having a good time.

"Here, I'll teach you," said Alfred. What followed after were Cecile's clumsy steps and near-tripping accidents, Alfred's laughter and him catching her on time. In the end, Cecile just stepped on his feet and allowed Alfred to take the lead and dance for the both of them.

"You know, you're pretty good at this," Alfred complimented.

"Balancing on your big shoes? Yeah, I'm a pro. This sort of skill doesn't come easy, you know?" Cecile cheekily grinned, causing the dancing duo to laugh at their silliness. The moment was cut off when a distinctive British voice called out to them.

"Ameri- Alfred! Miss!" the voice called to them. Looking over, Cecile saw that it was one of the men who were in the living room; the one who had ridiculously large eyebrows, but made up for it with his beautiful emerald eyes.

"Yo, Artie! What up?" Alfred waved over as Cecile stepped off his feet. Arthur just rolled his eyes at the greeting.

"Come now, poppet. We're going to take you back home," Arthur told Cecile, who smiled at the news whilst Alfred frowned.

"Thank you," Cecile thanked him with a grateful nod, and then turned back to Alfred.

"Well, I guess this means 'goodbye'," Alfred said with a sad smile.

"Hey, we might see each other again, right?" Cecile tried to lift up his spirits. Alfred's eyes slid over her head and saw Arthur giving him a serious, though pained, face and a single, firm nod.

"Yeah, we will..." Alfred trailed off, keeping his eyes on Arthur's expression for a moment before returning to meet Cecile's gaze and offering a small smile. Cecile's smile grew, thinking that Alfred was no longer sad, and gently, though tentatively, took a hold of his finger in her hand.

"C'mon," she said with a jerk of her head towards Arthur, pulling Alfred along with her into the house. Cecile was the only one out of the three with a soft smile on her face while Arthur and Alfred were tense. Passing by, the two men sent looked at each other with an apprehensive gaze. Once Alfred and Cecile passed him, Arthur closed the glass doors and followed them further inside.

* * *

**A/N – And that ends the second part of the prologue! Leave a review to tell me what you think about this chapter and/or if you found anything wrong with it. If you have any questions, I'll answer them down here in the next chapter to the best of my abilities. Thanks for reading!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia; it all belongs to Himaruya Hidekaz. I also do not own the cover image.  
Claimer: I do own this story and original character(s)**

**Special thanks to;**

_**-PurpleMonarch **_**for being my beta reader and helping me with this chapter!**

**-**_**MissSerendipity2014 **_**for being my beta reader and helping me with this chapter!**

**-**_**ForeverHetalian **_**for the review. I'm glad to know of your thoughts on my OC! And yes, Cecile will be traveling through history.**


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